Memento Vivere

Petunia scowled furiously as Lisa hooted calmly next to her. She was in the kitchen angrily chopping vegetables for lunch.

It had been almost a week since she, Dudley, and Harry went to Diagon to get the children their respective school supplies, mostly thanks to the stranger, Mort.

She didn't know whether to be relieved that her niece had someone else in her corner, or unnerved that a strange man had approached her. 

The reason she was so furious was because Vernon had found out that Petunia had decided to send Dudley to a different school. 

He still didn't know that Dudley was going to a magic school, and honestly, she didn't intend to let him find out. 

While yes, she had once loved him, he had turned out to be a horrid man that she now despised. He was a terrible person. 

She just knew that if he discovered Dudley had magic, he'd do something horrible. Something that could result in an obscurial.

She couldn't let that happen to either of the sweet children she had raised. It was a miracle that Dudley hadn't turned out more like his father. 

Truly, if that man did anything to her kids, she'd gut him and feed him to the pets. Maybe even use him for fertilizer. 

Then she'd burn down the damn house. Lord knows it had too many painful memories for her precious niece. 

She hasn't been a very good aunt for Harry, but she was working to change that. She didn't really have an excuse for treating her the way she did. 

Petunia thinks, maybe, she treated Harry the way she did because a little part of her blamed magic for tearing her from Lily. 

But that was stupid. Magic hadn't torn her from Lily. Not really. Petunia's selfishness had. And for no reason too! 

Petunia should have gone to a magical school when she turned eleven, not thirteen. The only reason she hadn't was because of Dumbledore. 

She had been so upset when she found out that she had more than enough magic to go to a magical school. 

The only reason she hadn't gone to school with Lily was because Dumbledore said she didn't have enough for magic.

That clearly wasn't the case considering the fact that she had a wand, a well-paying job in the magical community, and went to a magical school. 

She missed her sister. Her mother and father. She couldn't remember why she married Vernon. Her husband was a horrible man from a horrible family. 

Dudley and Harry were really all she had now. She refused to let them be hurt. She raised them, so how could she ever want to hurt them? 

Dudley would be alright, even with a muggle last name and he could always go by Evans. 

Surprisingly, the Evans family was actually a magical Archduchy in France, meaning Petunia was an Archduchess. 

It turned out that, since Magical France had no royalty, the nobility practically ruled Magical France. The only thing higher was the Minister. 

Except, Archduchies had more power than the minister. The Royal system hadn't been abolished, the royals just stopped having kids. 

Petunia had even more sway among the Courts of Magical France due to the Evans Archduchy being primarily run by women, and for good reason. 

Not to mention, Vernon had no idea that he was technically an Archduke and, by association, considered royalty in the eyes of Magical Frances Courts. 

It certainly didn't help that Archduchies were akin to kings and queens. Petunia was the same as a queen according to Magical France. 

They treated her like it too. Duke Delacour, who also just so happened to be the Minister, often sent her letters keeping her up to date. 

She had protested against it since she didn't live in France, but he had said that she was the closest thing they had to royalty, and she would be treated like it. 

Petunia hadn't been too happy by this, but then the Minister had informed the other wizarding nobles of the situation. 

Needless to say, Petunia was considered the closest thing to royalty, whether she wanted it or not. 

At least this meant that Dudley and Harry would have extra protection, even if not from her husband.

Harry already had fame, which if used smartly, would be useful, and Dudley had the Evans Archduchy to fall back on. 

That didn't protect them from Vernon, though, and Petunia was going to do something about it. She would not allow her flesh and blood be hurt anymore.

She cursed in frustration and set the knife in the sink. She'd been so lost in her thoughts that she had cut her finger.

It was a minor thing, barely 2 centimeters long, but it had hurt enough to snap her from her hatred.

She sighed as blood swirled down the drain. It was easy to locate a bandaid and put it on her cut, what with the bandaids being under the counter.

She leaned against the table behind her, not noticing Leo wander into the kitchen. The truly massive cat hardly left Harry or Dudley’s sides.

He preferred to follow at Harry's heels, but when she was unavailable, he wandered over to her cousin and sat at his feet.

Leo had proven to be surprisingly vigilant, especially around Vernon. Almost to the point where it was hard to believe he was just a muggle cat…

She pursed her lips and glanced at him, before refocusing on making lunch. She frowned when she saw blood had landed on the vegetables. 

She threw out the vegetables with blood on them and set the knife in the sink. The amount she had now would suffice for lunch. 

Petunia smiled when Lisa flapped closer and began to preen her hair, hooting softly as she combed through the humans’ hair. 

Since she didn't have to worry about her owl, she turned back to the cat. “Hello, Leo,” She greeted. He meowed back. 

Petunia watched him closely and let out a soft breath. “I see,” she murmured as she knelt and picked the massive cat up. 

If he stood on his hind legs, he would be just under her waist without his tail, especially considering that she was 5’8.

Speaking of the cat’s height, Leo easily hopped down from her arms and onto the counter. It probably helped that he was heavy and therefore she was holding him closer to it.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

Petunia huffed in annoyance. She was already having a bad day, and she didn’t really want to interact with anyone other than the residents of the house, her husband not included.

As far as she was aware, the children are angels, not including the pranks they now regularly played on Vernon.

The entire neighborhood despised the man and as such found the pranks to be great sources of entertainment, especially considering Petunia refused his insistence on punishing the kids.

She pursed her lips to the point of looking bloodless as she made her way to the door. She allowed a graceful smile fall upon her lips at the sight of Dudley and Harry poking their heads down from atop the stairs.

Harry grinned cheekily as Leo trotted up the steps to her and Dudley waved merrily. Lisa hooted unhappily and flew after Leo, following him. 

Harry scooped up Leo and peered at the door, Dudley copying her by allowing Lisa to land on his shoulder.

Turning her attention away from the only human occupants of her house that she genuinely liked, Petunia opened the door and stared.

“Uhm… Hello.” She greeted, a little hysterical. A massive man whose shape she could barely see stood on the doorstep.

He wore a coat that completely hid every inch of skin but his hands, and his face was similarly covered by hair. Nonetheless, it was easy to tell that the man was beaming.

“Hello there! My name is Rubeus Hagrid. I'm looking for Harry Potter. And you are?” The giant of a man, though he certainly wasn't a giant, boomed. 

“My name is Petunia Dursley. What business do you have with my niece?” She asked, smiling stiffly up at the man. 

She didn't like the idea of a fully grown man coming and asking for her niece, no matter how nice he seemed. 

She squinted suspiciously at him. “... Why are you here? As far as I'm aware, there shouldn't be any reason for you to be here.”

This made him frown. “I- I'm here to take Harry to get ‘er supplies. She's going to Hogwarts whether yah like it or no’.”

Petunia frowned too and crossed her arms, glaring up at him. “I've already taken Harry to get her school supplies.”

Hagrid looked flummoxed. “Bu’, bu’... The Headmaster said tha’ you hate magicals!”

Petunia clenched her fist so tight that her nails broke skin. She sighed angrily and stepped aside, motioning for Hagrid to enter the house.

“Come in,” she snapped. She glanced up the stairs and was unsurprised that Harry and Dudley had lingered at the top of the stairs. 

They did a very good job at staying out of the humongous man's line of sight though, so props to that. 

She led him into the kitchen, none too pleased about letting him into the house, where the children were. 

At least if he tried something, they had two very deadly, very protective snakes to protect them. The man was a behemoth though, so she doubted they could do much. 

She washed her hand in warm water and grabbed another bandage. At this point, she would just have to bandage her entire hand. 

She quickly dried her hand and put on the bandage, unwilling to keep her back to the man despite the fact that she would probably be able to hear every step he took.

Without allowing her facial expression to change, she very carefully extended her senses with her magic. 

A perk of almost never having access to her wand was that she had gotten incredibly adept at wandless magic. 

Wandless magic was so difficult that, despite being taught, it could only really be used to do the very first spells and charms learned in first year. 

At least, in Hogwarts. Beauxbatons also taught wandless magic, but it didn't get much further than Wizarding Britain's limit. 

“Well?” She prompted, now sitting at the table with Hagrid, who was squeezed awkwardly into the chair, very clearly trying not to break it. 

She quickly smothered a smile at the hilarious sight of such a large man doing his best to not accidentally break something so small in comparison.

Hagrid cleared his throat, visibly nervous. “Headmaster Dumbledore sent me to take Harry to get ‘er school supplies. He didn’ think you'd take ‘er.”

Petunia scowled. “Of course I'd take her. I don't necessarily like it, but I read Lily's books. I know what could've happened if I chose to try and ‘beat the magic out of her’.”

Hagrid stiffened and opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Harry and Dudley appearing in the doorway to the kitchen. 

As it had become an increasingly common sight since acquiring Leo, the cat was calmly being carried by Harry. 

The cat that was barely touching the floor from its place in Harry's arm looked absolutely done with life. 

Even still, Petunia knew Leo didn't look like that because of the children. The cat absolutely adored them and they had quickly learned how to tell when Leo wanted to be left alone. 

They respected his boundaries despite him being a cat, and as such, he never saw any reason to so much as look at them angrily.

No, the reason he looked so upset was because of Hagrid. Leo also despised Vernon with a passion, which was understandable. 

However, Petunia was beginning to suspect that the cat just hated everyone he thought would be a threat to Harry and Dudley. 

Honestly, she had already understood that feeling long before, but not to the point of considering killing her own husband like she had caught Leo trying to do. 

All things considered, she was thinking about no longer thwarting his plans to kill Vernon, that's how terrible her once loving husband was now. 

But it was neither the time nor place to be thinking such things, especially with the way Hagrid was staring at Harry as if he'd seen a ghost. 

She bristled at the way he stared at her as if heartbroken. She knew other witches and wizards well enough to know that they wouldn't see Harry for who she was. 

Dudley noticed his mother's hostility and became noticeably defensive, stepping in front of Harry and blocking Hagrid from seeing her. 

Harry frowned softly and stepped out from behind her cousin. “Hello,” she greeted shyly and there was a hint of a glimmer in her eyes. 

Petunia stood abruptly, glaring daggers at the intruder in her home. Ignoring the fact that she allowed him in, she hissed angrily, “Get out!”

Hagrid rose from his seat and boomed, “Well now, you can't jus’ kick me ou’!”

“I very well can! This is my house and you have made my niece cry! Now OUT!” She shrieked back just as angrily. Magic crackled around them, on the verge of becoming hostile. 

Hagrid made an aborted movement, only stopped from doing something rash by Harry yelling, “Enough!”

There was a shocked silence as everyone turned to stare at Harry, even the magic calming, though the smell of ozone and fire, burnt hair permeated the air. 

Petunia sucked in a deep breath and the house seemed to settle around them. Hagrid reluctantly sat back down and Harry and Dudley claimed the seats closest to Petunia. 

Harry watched her aunt carefully for a moment before turning to Hagrid. “Did you know my parents? You… You look at me like you know me.”

Hagrid sniffled loudly and nodded. “Aye… Aye. James an’ Lily were in Gryffindor. Two of the best wixen I knew.”

Harry nodded silently, not even thinking about mentioning the fact that she apparently had another parent and two godparents that were unable to care for her.

“Aunt Petunia tries to remember stories about them,” whispered Harry. “But they weren't on the best terms after Mum found out she had magic.”

Petunia blinked back tears at the mention of her little sister. The little girl she had been with since birth, the little girl she had adored. 

The little girl who looked at her as if Petunia was her whole world, not their parents. 

Alas, that little girl was gone, and the only thing she had left behind was a child of her own. Petunia swallowed harshly, banishing the thoughts of regret. 

There was nothing she could do now, now way to fix the damage she had caused. The only thing she could do now was protect her sister's child. 

Hagrid sniffled again, on the verge of sobbing. “Aye. How much did yer aun’ tell you?” He asked quietly. 

Harry swallowed. “How they died… That they loved each other, but they loved me more. That… That my dad's best friends couldn't raise me.”

Petunia had indeed told Harry all of this the morning after the trip to Diagon Alley, once Vernon had left for work. 

She would have told her niece after going shopping, but they had all been so drained that they had dinner and went straight to bed. 

It had been… Worrying to find out that not only did Harry have a third parent, but apparently both of her fathers were still alive. 

Harry had been in tears the next morning because she thought that they had abandoned her. Petunia had been quick to kill that thinking. 

She had soothed Harry by pointing out that the inheritance test said that James and Regulus were incapacitated, meaning they were unable to care for her. 

Harry had then tearily asked about her godmother. Petunia had paused at that. It was true that Heir Longbottom now only had his grandmother. 

Everyone knew, even those not from Magical Britain, that Lady Longbottom was a stern woman, to the point where most would consider cruel. 

She adored her son, and had fallen into such despair at his mind break that House Longbottom all but ceased to exist for a long while. 

It was also known that Heir Longbottom was considered a squib by his family and the only reason that he was still alive was because of accidental magic. 

That had made Petunia go silent. The heir was possibly being abused, at the very least neglected, and he was her niece’s godbrother, so it made sense to invite him over, right?

Despite wanting to focus more on her god nephew and getting him to become more confident, everyone knew that he was the coward of his family, she needed to focus on her niece.

Thankfully that had been almost a week ago, and as such, Harry had since calmed down. Sometimes Petunia would catch her looking distressed.

Every single time she saw this expression on her niece’s face, she felt a hot bolt of determination. She could tell Dudley felt the same way whenever she looked at her son.

She frowned severely and forced herself back to the present, a little startled to find Hagrid bawling his eyes out as Dudley glared daggers at him and Harry desperately tried to calm him.

It was clear that her son did not want the man in their house and Petunia agreed with him fully. He was a grown man, yet here he was sobbing like a child and making an actual child care for him.

She rose from her chair. “Mr. Hagrid, if you are going to refuse to be helpful, then please get out of my house. You are distressing my son and niece.”

Hagrid sniffled heavily and wiped his face with a handkerchief that he'd pulled from one of the many pockets on his coat. 

Finally, after a grueling two hours that was mostly breaks to allow the man to collect himself, they'd finally gotten information on why he was there. 

“Well,” sighed Petunia once Hagrid was finished explaining. “As you can see, Harry already has all of her school supplies.”

Hagrid nodded solemnly and after saying his goodbyes to the three, ducked out of the doorway and down the driveway. 

Once he was out of sight, Petunia slumped against the doorway. They had eaten lunch while Hagrid was there, and Dudley helped bandage her hand properly. 

Harry was now sniffling, clearly upset by the entire situation, and Leo was purring up a storm in her lap. They had very quickly learned that his purring calmed Harry the best and let him do his own thing because of it.

“Aunt Petunia? Hagrid… He said something about Slyrtherins being evil because they're dark?” Harry whispered quietly as she leaned into Dudley's side. 

Petunia paused, blinked, and pursed her lips. She will admit, she wasn't too pleased about how everyone treated Slytherin over one person. 

“Remember, children, magic is not truly ‘light’ or ‘dark’. It focuses on intent, and no matter how seemingly useless the spell, intent can be deadly.” She said, hands on her hips. 

Dudley and Harry nodded rapidly, stars in their eyes. Leo, still being half-dragged-half-carried, looked startled before becoming contemplative. It was strange to see a cat so emotional. 

Petunia smiled softly. They were such wonderful children. To her, at least. She regretted treating Harry the way she had. Harry had been a child and hadn't deserved the abuse. 

Despite not liking it, abuse was the correct term. The only other term that could possibly fit properly would be neglect, but the way they had treated Harry deserved the proper title. 

Even after the way she had treated Harry, Harry still looked at Petunia with such trust. 

Petunia vowed to herself that she would never do anything to break that trust in her. Not again. 

Not when Harry had seemingly regained trust in her aunt after just having lost all of it.

— — —

Harry sighed in relief as she flopped onto her bed. Leo meowed at her before hopping off the bed and wandering over to where Jor had slithered up her wardrobe.

Seeing Hagrid had been jarring, but she was happy to see that he was okay in this timeline. His arrival had brought up some questions, though…

Where were her fathers? Why didn’t she know she had another father? Why didn’t she know Sirius was also her uncle? What did this mean for her? Were her fathers okay?

The thought of Sirius and his brother, who was apparently her father, made her sit up. Sirius hadn’t told her much about him except for the fact that he was the favorite child. 

At the time, Sirius had said it so angrily, as if he resented his brother for it, but it turned out that Sirius regretted not spending more time with his brother. 

Harry hesitated. She was afraid that she might regret what she was about to do, but better now than later. 

She took a deep breath, looked around, and uttered, “Kreacher.” She paused, waiting to see if anything would happen. 

Just as she relaxed, there was the telltale sign of a house elf apparating. A loud crack rang out through the air. 

Clearly it was loud enough to reach the living room downstairs, as mere seconds later Aunt Petunia burst through the door looking furious.

Dudley was on her heels, Tuttle in his arms and Azraq wrapped around his shoulders. Of the group that had just barged into her room, Tuttle was the only one that didn't look outright hostile at the new arrival.

Kreacher merely raised an old, wrinkly eyebrow in response. Petunia glared down at the house elf, none too happy to see him.

Harry stared, surprised. Usually, Kreacher would be spouting off insults as soon as he arrived, not looking as calm and collected as he did now.

Perhaps there was some truth to Hermione’s theory about Kreachers health massively declining from years of being alone in Grimmauld Place.

“Little Miss called?” The wrinkly house elf asked unamusedly. His loincloth was noticeably cleaner than in the future, and his wrinkles were not quite so large now.

Harry couldn’t help but wonder what happened in the five years to make him so… deranged. He was so much calmer now that it gave her whiplash to see.

“Hello Kreacher. I- I am Harriet Potter. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she offered softly. “This is my aunt Petunia and cousin Dudley. We recently discovered that… that I am the Heir of House Black.”

Kreacher nodded. “Yes, that is correct. Little Miss is the child of Spare Regulus Arcturus Black and Claimed Heir of Unaccepted Lord Sirius Orion Black.”

Harry gaped. She hadn't expected Kreacher to know, much less accept her so readily. “You accept me as Heir!?”

Kreacher just gave her an unimpressed look, “Of course Kreacher knows, Little Miss’s name is on the Black Family Tree.”

“Well, that’s all well and good, but why are you here?” Hissed Petunia venomously, having made her way across the room and in front of Harry without anyone else noticing.

Dudley hovered nervously in Harry’s doorway, unsure of what to do. After a moment's hesitation, he cautiously stepped into the room.

His footsteps were so quiet that, due to losing massive amounts of weight thanks to potions, they could barely be heard. He gently grabbed Harry’s hand and guided her to sit down.

The two watched, as quietly as possible for fear of attracting attention from the other people in the room, and wrapped themselves in Harry’s covers.

Jor slithered over, wrapping himself comfortingly around the children. Evidently enough, this prompted the other animals to join them on the bed.

Neither Petunia nor Kreacher noticed this development, so wrapped up in their argument they were. Harry pulled the covers tighter around herself, watching closely.

“What do you want with my niece?” Petunia questioned harshly. Kreacher, instead of looking offended, actually looked reluctantly impressed.

“The Little Miss called for Kreacher.” He said bluntly. “Little Miss is the chosen Heir of House of Black.”

Harry interrupted, “Wait, chosen? But Papa is my father and Padfoot is my uncle. You yourself said he named me Heir.”

“That is because dirty traitor Sirius never claimed the Black Family Magic,” Kreacher nodded. Dudley frowned because that would mean-

“Then how is Harry the Heir? If this Sirius bloke is Harry’s uncle but never claimed Lordship, wouldn’t that mean there is no way to name her Heir?” Dudley asked, having a feeling his suspicions might be right.

“Because the Black Family Magics claimed Little Miss. Little Miss is their favorite now,”  Kreacher stated matter-of-factly.

Harry sputtered, “What!? But- But I’ve never- I haven’t even met the Family Magic! There’s no way I’m the favorite!”

Kreacher gave her an exasperated look. “Little Miss is the favorite because of multiple factors. Dirty traitor Sirius is the least important of those factors.”

“Factors?” Interrupted Petunia, “what kind of factors?” Her hard expression softened a little when Leo wound himself around her ankles on his way to the children.

Kreacher watches the entire interaction with a strange look, almost like relief. “Master Regulus was the Family Magics favorite, and that has transferred to Little Miss.”

After a long conversation on the family magic, where it was revealed that the family magic absolutely adored Remus and Harry’s parents, as such making her the favorite at least five times over thanks to the fact that she was also born at all.

Something they hadn’t expected to learn was that being the favorite also came at a price, one that not even Blacks wanted to pay.

“Being the favorite,” Kreacher had informed, “usually resulted in the favorite's mind shattering. The Black Family Magic is so powerful that it shatters its favorite’s mind, though not on purpose.”

That had been particularly chilling to learn, making Petunia pale and Dudley cling to Harry’s wrist with a tight grasp.

Harry had frozen, staring at the house elf in shock as Leo shifted his full weight onto her, purring up a storm in an attempt to soothe her.

Sensing that Harry would need some time to process, the house elf left with the promise of returning at a later date.

Petunia had told him it might have to be a while due to the fact that both Dudley and Harry had to go to their prospective schools, Durmstrang and Hogwarts.

Kreacher had merely cocked an eyebrow and acquiesced, leaving with nary an unpleasant look at anyone.

Not much was said after he left. Petunia went downstairs to make dinner, even though there was an hour left. 

Dudley grabbed a book on healing and curled up on the bed with Harry, who fell asleep after a while of listening to him ramble. 

She ends up sleeping through dinner, much to Vernon’s pleasure and Petunia and Dudley’s worry. Petunia boxes up some of the leftovers for her with the excuse of it being for Vernon.

— — —

The first thing Harry sees when she wakes up is white. Pure, blinding white. The exact same white she had seen in Kings Cross Limbo. Oh, and Fate. Wait- Fate!?

Harry sat up so fast that her skull collided with Fate’s, making the deity/personification of Fate fall back with a pained whine.

Harry paused as a chuckle sounded from behind her. She twisted around to see Death standing a few feet away. “Hello, Mistress.” He greeted warmly. Fate was still whining in the background.

“Hello ‘Mort’.” She laughed, finally dragging herself off of the floor. She frowned when she realized that she was still in her 11 year old body and not her 23 year old body.

Fate finally stopped whining, clearly able to tell that the others couldn’t care less about her dramatics. “Ugh. You guys are no fun.”

Harry continued to ignore the woman who single handedly made her life a living hell all for her entertainment. “Mort, why am I a kid? And why am I female?”

“OH!” Fate jumped to her feet. “I can answer that. Death strong-armed me into sending you to another universe.”

Harry tilted her head in confusion. “Universe? Don’t you mean world? Or is it another reality?” She asked, confused.

Fate smiled, “No, I mean universe. Normally, yes, it would be referred to as another realm since I don't have jurisdiction over you anymore.”

Death spoke up, “We refer to it as another universe because as my mistress, I will not collect you, and Fate can no longer puppet you around.”

Harry nodded slowly. “I… think I understand.” She admitted hesitantly. From what she could tell, she was free to do what she wanted in this universe.

Fate nodded glumly. “Death made me promise not to interfere more than I absolutely have too, so you don’t have to worry about me trying to make things more entertaining.”

Harry narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the glum deity. “You really plan on keeping that promise?” She questioned, not believing it.

Fate looked panicked, “Yes! I’m gonna keep it! In fact, I actually need your help.” She looked guilty, unbearably so.

“With what?” Harry raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms and watching Fate pace around Limbo Kings Cross.

Death tilted his head, obviously confused as well. “Well?” He prompted. “While I do not wish to be rude, we only have so much time before Harriet must wake.”

Fate finally stood still and nodded. “Alright, I need you to-”

— — —

The Patriarch slowly made his way down the stairs. Each step he took creaked so badly that the residents awoke.

The man who resembled walrus more than he resembled a human clumsily walked into the kitchen, almost banging on the cupboard instinctively.

He walked past, remembering that the resident he most disliked no longer resided there, avoiding waking his wife and son.

Upon entering the kitchen, he froze. Silver eyes glared hatefully at him from behind the table. With impossible grace, the silver eyes grew to reach the table top.

The patriarch-who-every-one-hates howled in fear and rage. “FREAK-” he screamed before being cut off by a bloodcurdling yowl.

The silver eyes leaped off of the table and at the patriarch-who-even-his-wife-hates and started attacking him.

The only sound that could be heard through the house was screeching and crashing. Eventually, the hated-patriarch stumbled up the stairs with non-magical cursing falling from his ugly lips.

Silver eyes watched him from the bottom of the stairs, visibly satisfied at the sight of the walrus fleeing.

— — —

Soft beeping and breathing were the only sounds that could be heard in the room. Outside, in the hallway, chatter could be heard.

There hadn’t been any kind of movement for so long that even the caretakers were beginning to lose hope.